When Opposites Collide
by Heiress7Muzzy
Summary: Draco is acting weird, and Harry is on the receiving end of it.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **When Opposites Collide

**Disclaimer: **This story is based entirely on the story J.K. Rowling has written. She owns all of the characters, ideas, credit and copyright. This story is made simply for enjoyment and no money is being made from this. No offence intended. No copyright infringement intended.

**Warnings: **Slash, silliness

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco

**Summary: **Draco is acting weird, and Harry is on the receiving end of it.

**Author's Note: **I am very new to writing fanfiction, and constructive criticism and suggestions are welcome. I have quite a few stories I'm working on, most of them Drarry-related. If you're a Drarry shipper, take the time to check out some of my other works and tell me what you think. Anyway, this is just something I thought of during school, and decided to write down.

"_Opposita miscere!_"

Draco Malfoy didn't even feel the effect of the spell taking place as he sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, eating a leisurely breakfast, unsuspecting of the terrible event soon to take place.

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"Watch where you're going, Malfoy," Harry snapped, feeling especially irritable and vindictive for no reason he cold fathom.

"Don't watch where you're going, Potter," Malfoy lashed back, sending him a death glare.

"You're not making any sense," he said, frowning uncertainly at the other boy.

"I do make sense,' the blonde shot back huffily, his death glare growing in intensity.

"Whatever, Malfoy, as much fun as this has been, I have to go." Harry turned and walked off. Before he could go far, however, Malfoy caught up with him.

"Whatever, Potter. This has not been fun, and I most certainly will not go," Malfoy retorted, adamant in his refusal to leave Harry alone.

"What's wrong with you, Malfoy?" Harry said exasperatedly, coming to a stop outside an unused classroom, and spinning around to face the Slytherin.

"I think the question is, what's wrong with you, Potter?" the blonde sneered back, stopping with him.

"You're mad," Harry muttered, "Shove off, Malfoy."

"You're sane to say that," Malfoy drawled, smirking at him, "Come on then, Potter."

"I'm not going to be baited, so just leave me alone, okay?" Harry could feel himself nearing the end of his rope, and he was pretty sure if Malfoy didn't go away, he would be on the wrong end of Harry's pent-up anger and frustration.

"I wasn't baiting you, and I'm not going," the git replied, crossing his arms over his chest, and glowering at him.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," Harry spat, losing his cool and launching himself at the Slytherin, tackling him onto the floor of the unused classroom, and landing blows on every inch of the blonde he could reach.

Much to his surprise, Malfoy did not fight back. He just lay there, still and unmoving, until Harry stopped punching.

The next words out of Malfoy's mouth shocked Harry so much he almost hit the blonde again. Almost.

"Fuck me, Potter."


	2. Chapter 2

"Excuse me?" Harry exclaimed, looking incredulously down at Malfoy, whom he had unconsciously pinned to the floor.

"Excuse you," Malfoy replied, lounging back on the hard stone floor, not looking in the least bit perturbed.

"I thought you said -" he broke off, narrowing his eyes at the blonde, "Is this some kind of sick joke, Malfoy?"

"You thought I said -" here Malfoy, too, broke off, "What? Did you think there was such a thing as a healthy joke?"

Harry's mind spun, trying to make sense of what the Slytherin was saying. Then suddenly, it clicked. "You're saying the exact opposite of what I'm saying, aren't you, Malfoy?"

"I'm saying the exact same thing as you, Potter," Malfoy replied stonily, though when Harry leaned in closer for inspection, he could see the telltale glazed look in his silver eyes that meant he was under a spell.

"Right, so you're under a spell, you have no control over what you say, and I'm the only one besides the caster who knows," Harry mused, before a wicked smirk worthy of a Slytherin formed on his face.

"Wrong, so I'm under a spell, I have no control over what I say, and you're the only one besides the caster who knows," Malfoy deadpanned, still glaring at him with glazed eyes.

"This should be fun, wouldn't you think so, Malfoy?"

"This will not be fun, Potter."

"I hate you, Malfoy."

"I love you, Potter."

"Let's let everyone in the Great Hall know that, yeah?"

"Let's not let everyone in the Great Hall know that."

"Too late," Harry grinned, getting up and brushing himself off, before helping Malfoy to his feet as well.

"Too bloody early," Malfoy muttered as Harry dragged him to the Hall.

"_Sonorus_," Harry intoned, pointing his wand at his and Malfoy's throats.

"_Quietus_," Malfoy's voice boomed out over the Hall. It was ironic, really. He obviously didn't have his wand on him, so the incantation for the Quieting Spell came out almost a bellow over the din of students eating breakfast.

"We have something to share with you all," Harry began, once every single person, including the professors, was looking at them.

"We don't have anything to share with you all," Malfoy stated blandly.

"I guess it's a confession of sorts."

"It's not actually a confession."

"More like a profession of our everlasting enmity."

"More like a declaration of our undying affection."

"I hate you, Malfoy."

"I love you, Potter."

A collective gasp came from the students and staff alike, while Harry did his best to school his face into an unreadable mask, though he was inwardly shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Malfoy!" Harry gasped, plastering a faked expression of shock on his face, "You didn't mean that!"

"Potter, I meant every single word."

"But – but you hate me!"

"No – no, I love you!"

Another collective gasp, then everyone in the vicinity began gossiping.

Harry ended the spell on them and pulled the Slytherin out of the Hall. Once they were back in the unused classroom, he let go of the blonde and burst out laughing. He laughed so hard his breath came in gasps and he had to clutch at the stitch in his side, clutching the wall for support.

"Merlin, that was so hilarious. Hahaha…" and he subsided into uncontrollable giggles once more.

"Morgan, that was so not funny. Ahaha," Malfoy said dryly, his face expressionless.

That was all it took for Harry to start laughing all over again, tears streamed down his cheeks as he laughed harder than he had in a very long time.

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Outside the slightly ajar doorway, the caster of Draco's spell was seething in outrage at Potter laughing merrily in the classroom.

The plan was for Potter and Draco to get together, and they had gotten so close. When Draco had told the brunette to fuck him, he should have done it! What on earth had he been waiting for?

Things would just have to be taken a step further then, if Potter was so daft he wouldn't do it, wouldn't get together with Draco.

Devious plan already formulating in mind, the caster turned and strode off to carry out Operation: Get Potter to Fuck Draco.


	3. Chapter 3

"I think it's time you stopped laughing, Potter."

Harry, from his doubled over position against the wall, froze at the sound of Malfoy's voice. Laughter dying in his throat, he straightened and risked a glance at the blonde boy, who was giving him a glare that could petrify a Basilisk. Evidently the spell that had him spouting the opposite of whatever Harry said had worn off.

_Shit._ _Should I apologize for embarrassing him in front of the entire staff and student body or make a run for it?_ Another look at the Slytherin, and he made his decision. _The latter option it is._

Harry spun on his heels and bolted for the door, putting to great use the muscles he reserved specifically for escaping Dudley and his gang when he was younger. Unfortunately, Malfoy had the advantage of height and the natural cunning of a Slytherin on his side, and grabbed the back of his robes, dragging him back.

"In a hurry, are we, Potter?" Malfoy asked, smirking, spinning Harry round to face him, hands locked on Harry's wrists to prevent escape.

"I – er – I didn't mean, um, I wasn't – sorry?" he managed, trying desperately to free his wrists.

"You didn't seem to have a problem enunciating when you were telling everyone how the two of us were –" Malfoy leaned in to hiss in his ear, "– in love."

"Erm, that was – I didn't, er –" Harry stammered. The blood seemed to have stopped circulating to his brain, and instead all rushed south. He attributed that to nervousness; anyone who had their arch enemy this close to them, intent on revenge, would be slightly uneasy, wouldn't they?

"Did the blood stop flowing to that thick head of yours, Potter?" Malfoy snapped tersely, stepping back and letting go of his wrists. (He was not disappointed that Malfoy had stopped touching him, he was not!)

"Erm – yeah, maybe?" he muttered, fighting the urge to run, just so he could have Malfoy catch him and (hopefully) touch him some more. _What the bloody hell's wrong with me today? Maybe it's the mushy porridge from breakfast acting up. Because I most definitely do not want to have Draco Malfoy anywhere near me, let alone touch me._

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Unnoticed by the two quarreling boys inside the classroom, the caster smiled a full-blown evil-genius smile, before taking careful aim and putting into action part two of Operation: Get Potter to Fuck Draco.

"_Eodem tempore!_"

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"So, tell me, Potter, why exactly did you feel the need to announce to the school that we're gay lovers?" Draco asked, circling the green-eyed brunette, who was, he could see, itching to make a break for it, but was resolutely holding his ground.

"So, tell me, Malfoy, why exactly did you feel the need to announce to the school that we're gay lovers?" Potter retorted. Wait… what kind of retort was that, anyway?

"I wouldn't know, you were the one who did it," he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the raven-haired boy.

"I wouldn't know, you were the one who did it," Potter replied in kind.

"Would you stop repeating what I say?"

"Would you stop repeating what I say?"

"Do you have any idea how fucking annoying this is?"

"Do you have any idea how fucking annoying this is?"

"You already tricked me with your word games once, I'm not falling for it another time."

"You already tricked me with your word games once, I'm not falling for it another time."

"I mean it, Potter, if you don't stop it this fucking instant I'm going to make you."

"I mean it, Malfoy, if you don't stop it this fucking instant I'm going to make you."

"You asked for it," Draco hissed, before lunging at Potter and grabbing him by the front of his robes.

"You asked for it," said Potter, seemingly unaffected at being held by the front of his robes by his worst enemy.

"SHUT UP, POTTER!"

"SHUT UP, MALFOY!"

Draco had had enough. He shoved his face in front of Potter's and, compelled by a strange urging in him, brought his mouth down on the other boy's in one swift, unstoppable move.

That had the desired effect of shutting Potter up, Draco thought with satisfaction. His tongue swiped at the brunette's lip, demanding entrance, which was granted. Potter returned the kiss with equal fervour, one hand sliding up to stroke his hair, while the other snaked around to Draco's waist.

Potter wasn't at all a bad kisser, either, Draco though dazedly, arching into the kiss. He was quite good, no, brilliant, actually. And since when did he start snogging his arch rivals anyway? Probably since Potter had gotten that stupid idea of them being in love with each other.

He wasn't complaining, though. Potter certainly had skill. He was pretty sure they had been standing a while ago, but they were now in a tangled heap on the floor, Potter on top of him. How they had managed to that without once breaking the kiss was a mystery to Draco.

He stopped dwelling on that when Potter's hands left his hair and fixed themselves onto his shirt, swiftly undoing the buttons and flinging the garment away. Eager to return the favour, Draco flipped them over and got rid of Potter's shirt in a matter of seconds, before breaking their kiss to trail his mouth down the Gryffindor's well-toned chest, drawing gasps and shudders from the brunette.

Before he could go lower, however, he was abruptly rolled onto his back as Potter climbed on top and straddled him, effectively pinning him to the floor. With a look in his eyes that clearly meant 'my turn', Potter latched his mouth onto his neck and sucked, eliciting a deep-throated moan from Draco.

"Think – it's about time – for you to – fuck me, Potter," he gasped, unable to suppress a shiver of delight as Potter swirled his tongue over the planes of his torso.

"Think – it's about time – for me to – fuck you, Malfoy," the brunetter rasped in response, hand going to Draco's belt.

Something about that hadn't sounded right, and he struggled to make sense of it through the cloud of Potter-induced haziness he was currently in.

"Aren't you supposed to be repeating what I say? I thought you were under a spell or something."

"Guess it wore off," Potter grinned, before returning his attention to Draco's belt.

"Would it make a difference if I told you I was still under influence of that opposite spell and what I actually meant to say was, 'Think it's about time for me to fuck you, Potter'?"

"Nope, you're still bottoming."

"Oh, fuck."

"Yessss," Potter breathed into his ear, bringing his lips back down on Draco's and resuming his ministrations.

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Outside the classroom, Pansy Parkinson smirked to herself, before hurrying off to find Blaise Zabini to collect her winnings.

_That should show him better than to bet me that I can't get Draco to make out with Potter. That's 70 Galleons to me, thank you very much._


End file.
